


Suddenly I find (the electricity is gone)

by GamblingDementor



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Trans Sonny, blackout - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamblingDementor/pseuds/GamblingDementor
Summary: What happened to Sonny during the blackout, character study on his thoughts and feelings.





	

 

Usnavi fusses with his outfit a dozen times, changing and rechanging it, every time asking for Sonny's opinion on the almost-identical shirt he picked over the one before.

 

"You're overthinking this, cuz," Sonny says. "You look fine. Like a dork, but you always do, that can't be helped."

 

It's actually funny how much Usnavi cares about this date with Vanessa after Nina's dinner. He brought pretty much all of his wardrobe over to the back room of the bodega where he's periodically disappearing to fetch the next new outfit he subjects to Sonny's opinion.

 

"Ya think?" Usnavi asks, rubbing his neck like a maniac.

 

He's settled on a red chacabana with a bit of black and his hat, that he keeps taking off and putting on again, ultimately choosing on. He looks great, actually. Sonny pats his shoulder, fixes the fit of the shirt. Usnavi is sweating already, but Sonny guesses there's nothing to do against that. He can always blame it on the heat.

 

"A'ight, you gon' be late for dinner. Give Nina my love and try not to ruin this."

 

"I ain't giving Nina no nothing in front of Benny," Usnavi mumbles, trying to check his reflection in the glass door of the bodega.

 

That is cut short by said door opening almost straight into his face if Sonny didn't pull him back a step.

 

"Buddy, you look dope," Benny grins. "Let's go before we're late. G'night Sonny, have fun!"

 

"Yeah, yeah…"

 

The door barely has the time to swing open and closed that it's chiming again and Pete walks in. It's like a magic spell, every time Sonny is alone at the bodega, Pete will materialize.

 

"Yo, man," He holds up his hand for a fist bump that Sonny gives all too eagerly.

 

"Yo," Sonny replies. "Usnavi's gone for the night."

 

"Nice," Pete grins and sits on the counter, leaning down to check the candy shelf underneath it.

 

Sonny gulps. Something about the curve of his back, or that calf he keeps exposing, or these arms in that hoodie, something that makes his mouth go dry and his brain explode all directions. This has been going on for a while and Sonny is starting to get sick of feeling like a puddle of goo every time Pete so much as smiles a bit too wide. One eternally unrequited crush is perfectly enough, thank you. Just focus on the one.

 

"So Nina didn't invite me to her dinner…"

 

Pete perks up, a Mars bar in his hand that he tears open with his teeth before taking a huge bite of it.

 

"Man, that sucks," he says, his words all chewed up by the candy. "You been making progress, though? I saw you were talking earlier today."

 

_I've never made any progress on any romantic front whatsoever_. Out of his two hopeless crushes, though, Nina is probably even more inaccessible than Pete. At least Pete lives here on the block, he _likes_ Sonny and spends time with him. All day, Nina has been glued to Benny's side, flirting and laughing and sneaking away who knows where. Sonny saw it all through the bodega's window. It makes his stomach twirl uncomfortably.

 

"Not really," he sighs.

 

He's not blind or stupid. He knows he doesn't stand a chance, not when Benny is tall and dark and funny and smart, and realistically he knows he's not even in the competition. It's just hard to let go of a childhood crush you've had for longer than you can remember. Every time he sees Nina, he just sees her kind eyes and cute dimples and he remembers how she used to read him stories and hug him goodnight when she was his babysitter and he can only remember the adoration he's felt for her since forever. He's grown up, though not much, she's grown up a lot more, and he still feels like a six-year-old when three years apart were basically eternity. One day he's going to let this go, and sooner rather than later with the way things are going with Benny (the gossip of the day around the barrio, half of the customers were talking about it). Until then, he'll feel his heart clench whenever she fences him off and he'll go back to pining after crush #2.

 

Who is currently patting his shoulder as if he was a little cat.

 

"C'mon, you'll find someone better."

 

_What if I've already found him, but this is Nina all over again and I'll just crave something forever and end up alone while the better guy gets it?_ At least he is fairly sure that Pete is gay. They've talked about it… kind of. They talk about all sorts of shit all the time, him and Pete, and it just came up, how sometimes Pete is forcing his affection for girls because he feels he needs to. That could mean he's into guys, right? But Sonny didn't find the courage to ask confirmation and Pete seemed to want to change the subject anyways, so it's still a gray area for now. But if he's into guys, is he into guys like Sonny? It's one thing to have a trans best friend, but it's something else to date them, or make out with them. Not that Sonny would know from experience. He hasn't really got to that part with anyone at all yet.

 

All in all, there are far too many unknowns for Sonny to take action.

 

"You alright, Son'"? Pete asks and Sonny realizes he's zoned out.

 

"'Course, I was just… Nah, nevermind."

 

Pete looks like he's about to ask more when the door of the bodega jingles open again and Usnavi is back prematurely. Sonny doesn't know whether to thank him or curse him.

 

 

"Kevin sold his dispatch to pay for Nina's tuition, Benny's lost his job, Nina is mad, Vanessa is mad and our date is right now, _I need your advice_."

 

 

 

"Oh shit, man, that sucks," Pete blurts out and Usnavi seems to just now realize he's here.

 

He seems too stressed out to do anything beyond glaring. Sonny walks up to him and pats his shoulder heavily. His mess of a cousin needs help.

 

"You came to the right person," he says. "Sonny will help you."

 

Usnavi's shoulders relax and drop, even if just a little bit. He nods.

 

"First of all, that Nina business, leave that for tonight. Focus."

 

"Focus…"

 

"This is what we rehearsed, a'ight? Just you and Vanessa."

 

To be more accurate, it wasn't so much a rehearsal as Sonny trying to teach Usnavi everything he knew and Usnavi being more than reluctant to take any advice from here. _Well, look who's coming around now?_

 

"You got a date with Van?" Pete asks incredulously.

 

Usnavi's voice twitches.

 

"Why's that surprising?!"

 

Pete holds up his hands in a gesture of peace.

 

"Nah, not surprising, it's fine."

 

Under his breath he mumbles something that sounds a lot like _"She likes 'em dorks"_ but Usnavi doesn't seem to hear and Sonny sure isn't about to point it out.

 

"Okay, repeat after me," he tells Usnavi, stepping away to get him a snack. "Focus on Vanessa."

 

"Focus on Vanessa?"

 

"She your date. She wants to feel special, alright? Make her feel special."

 

Usnavi nods wistfully, taking a bite of chocolate − some smudges on his cheek and Sonny forcefully rubs it away with a napkin. _You really gotta do everything for this guy._

 

"But… the dancing?"

 

That part is pretty much hopeless.

 

" _Let her lead._ She'll like that anyways."

 

Pete snorts behind them − another glare from Usnavi.

 

"And please don't try out your dance moves on her, they won't work," Sonny adds.

 

"Oh I wanna see the dance moves," Pete says but Sonny shushes him.

 

Usnavi starts pacing the bodega, stopping in his track when he realizes he can't see Vanessa out the window anymore.

 

"Where'd she go?!" He yelps. "Where's Vanessa?"

 

Well, step one of this date has been compromised. All of Sonny's hard work for nothing. Usnavi really is helpless.

 

"She got out with you?"

 

"Before me, I was with Abuela, I… I just came to see you."

 

Sonny rolls his eyes.

 

"You just broke the only thing I told you."

 

"Focus on Vanessa?"

 

Sonny nods. Let it never be said he doesn't have a romantic soul. Of course he thinks about schmaltzy shit a lot. Even when he was littler and hoped to seduce his way to Nina's heart like a prince charming. Especially now that he's less little and his best shot at a date would be to sneak out to the clubs with Pete. He needs to be prepared. He needs to know this shit.

 

"Alright…" Usnavi says and straightens his back. "Alright. I can do this."

 

"You can do this."

 

"And then I'll get a second date."

 

"Wow, let's not think that far ahead," Sonny says. "One date at a time. You gotta nail this one."

 

"Nail? Vanessa's _totally_ good to go," Pete comments.

 

Usnavi's eyes squint with anger. Technically, from the things Sonny has heard, Pete is not entirely wrong in that Vanessa is not exactly a virgin Mary, but she has standards and whether Usnavi reaches these is still left in the air.

 

"Yo, get out of my shop if you gotta say stuff like that," Usnavi grumbles in Pete's general direction, but Pete just laughs and finishes up his Mars bar.

 

"You good?" Sonny asks.

 

Usnavi shrugs.

 

"Alright, now you find Vanessa."

 

A few minutes later, Vanessa and Usnavi walk past the bodega again (she was at Abuela Claudia's, simple as that, but of course Usnavi was worried for nothing) and Sonny catches her eyes. He wriggles his eyebrows and she flips him the bird. So far so accurate.

 

"So…" Pete says and Sonny finds that he's right behind him. "You the romance expert now?"

 

 

And Sonny realizes that he might well use his advice for his own evening tonight.

 

 

"That's right," he says cheekily, leaning against the doorway in what is meant to be seductive, but he loses his balance and slams his shoulder against it instead.

 

Pete doesn't point it out, thank God. Sonny regains his composure, tries to play it cool.

 

"Soooo, do you want a slushee?"

 

Pete eats up the rest of his chocolate bar and nods. He grabs a bottle of pop from the fridge, all cold thanks to Sonny's expert hands who fixed it today. Usnavi can suck it.

 

Sonny almost forgets that he's supposed to be giving Pete a slushee. There is nothing other than the way Pete's throat bobs as he slurps a big sip of Country Club, damn if Usnavi notices a bottle is gone and unpaid for. Pete puts down the bottle on the counter and looks at Sonny expectantly. _Shit_. Sonny scrambles to the slushee machines.

 

"Sonny's secret recipe for you," he promises and congratulates himself for refraining to add any pet name that threaten to slip out every time.

 

"Sweet," Pete says and it's good Sonny has something to focus on after a smile like this.

 

He carefully pours all the layers, the raspberry and the cherry cola and the raspberry again, and he's about to add the Nerds when suddenly Pete is right behind his shoulder, watching him, and Sonny gasps and drops the whole thing on the floor.

 

"Shit…"

 

"Aw, man, sorry, didn't mean to frighten you."

 

"You didn't! I'm just… Ugh…"

 

Words never used to be a problem like that, did they? Sonny used to be able to talk people up, get away from anything using just his mouth, he used to be _cool_ and chatty and fun. He still is all of those things, he thinks, just not when he's around his crushes. His failed attempt to hit on Nina this afternoon is just proof of that. And now she's gone dancing and Usnavi got a date with his dream girl and Sonny is all alone with his other crush with no idea what to do.

 

"Whatcha putting in?" Pete asks and he's so, _so_ close.

 

Sonny forces a grin on his face, forces the nervousness away and pushes on Pete's chest to get him to back away and sit on the counter again − can't promise he'll keep it together if he doesn't.

 

"Sonny's _secret_ recipe," he replies. "Can't risk getting out of business."

 

"A'ight, you keep your secrets," Pete says with a grin, jumping on the counter and Sonny has to look away again, the way Pete's arms tense when he holes himself up, with that sleeveless thingie he's always wearing, he can't look, otherwise he'll stare, and wouldn't that be awkward?

 

"I gotta ask Usnavi to make that a thing," he says. "Like a sign outside? Maybe I got future in the slushee business."

 

"You got future in any business you want, man."

 

"Mmh."

 

Again, the layers, carefully poured. He grabs a handful of Nerds from the bowl where he keeps them and puts them in, one by one, precise. He takes a big breath and tries to look cool and smart and fun, and turns around to give Pete the slushee…

 

And he trips on the one he dropped before. Wet sticky ice under his feet, he loses balance. He feels his arms flailing around and before he knows it, he's falling. Or rather, he would be, if not for Pete who jumps down the counter in no time at all to scoop him up. Sonny lands against his chest with a muffled groan, the slushee miraculously upright in his hand. Pete grabs it and sets it aside on the counter. 

 

"You alright?" Pete asks, his voice so nice and deep and gentle, it always is with Sonny. Usnavi doesn't know shit.

 

"Yeah," he sighs. "'M fine."

 

He doesn't want to look up, doesn't want to ever leave Pete's arms, even though he'll have to and then probably never speak to him ever again, because he embarrassed himself to death right now. He's probably already dead, and Satan is teasing him with Pete hugging him. He nuzzles against his chest before he can even stop himself, because this is all some sort of nightmarish dream anyways.

 

"Gave me a scare here," Pete says, his hand patting Sonny's back.

 

This is the end of his life. There is no way he's going to survive this. He's dead.

 

"Good?" Pete asks.

 

He nods and tries not to be a creep and breathe in Pete's smell, even though that's exactly what he's doing. Painfully, he breaks away from him, or at least tries to but Pete's arms are a vice around him.

 

"Pete…?"

 

There is something in Pete's eyes that Sonny has never seen before and he is _sure_ he didn't just imagine the way they flickered down to his lips, and he gotta say something, right? One of them gotta say something, or are they just going to stare at each other, arms still around each other, until Sonny dies of embarrassment?

 

"Son', I just…"

 

_He is not imagining this_. He is _not_ imagining the way Pete tilts his head just a little bit towards him, and his heart is pounding so hard he couldn't hear anything even if Pete talked, and their faces _are_ getting closer, this isn't just in his head…

 

Then his world turns upside down, and not because of Pete. Suddenly, the electricity is gone. _Just the fucking right time._

 

 

"Shit," he mutters to darkness around him.

 

 

 

"What the fuck is happening?" Pete says and he lets go of Sonny to go check outside through the glass door.

 

Sonny holds his sides, feeling ten times less comfy and valued than he was ten seconds ago. Did Pete and him almost _kiss_? Is that a moment that actually happened? He stands there feeling like the sky dropped on his head.

 

"What's going on?" He asks. The inside of his head has turned to cotton. "What's going on?" He repeats, his mind blank.

 

Pete is still eying the outside. Sonny can barely make out his shape, dark against the dark street.

 

"A blackout, I think."

 

"Like, power out?"

 

"Yeah," Pete says.

 

Sonny finds that he can't move. Inside him, the tension of before isn't quite gone yet and he's feeling scared and confused by the sudden darkness everywhere. He guesses more than he sees Pete walking back towards him. Hands grabbing his arms, gentle but firm and he wants to nestle into Pete's chest again. He wants nothing more in the world.

 

"Imma go see what's happening," Pete says. "You stay here?"

 

"What? No, stay!"

 

Sonny grasps onto Pete's arms − he doesn't want to be left alone, but he also really doesn't want to leave the safety of the bodega.

 

"I be right back, alright?" Pete says.

 

Sonny feels a hand on his cheek and tries to lean into it, wants that touch to last forever, but then Pete walks away and the door of the bodega slams behind him and he is all alone in the bodega that hasn't felt so big and foreign since a short lifetime ago. Sonny is suddenly flooded with memories of coming to America for the first time ages ago, just his chubby little self who knew nothing and thought the bodega of Tío Luis was the most mysterious place in the world, with the huge shelves and strange products. It only became less impressive when his cousin gave him a complete tour of the shop, Sonny's tiny hand in his less tiny one, both of them kids. He thought he had forgotten that, four years old and fresh off the plane from DR, yet here is the memory, clear as the day it happened.

 

He looks in every pocket of his body, it seems, before finally finding his phone. His hands are shaking as he pulls the contact list and selects Usnavi (under the loving name Nerd Primo, of course). It rings once. Twice.

 

"C'mon, Usnavi…"

 

Another couple times and nothing.

 

" _¡Hola mi pana!_ Leave a message. Erm, it's Usnavi, by the way, but you probably already knew that… Alright, your turn now!"

 

"Ugh!" Sonny hangs up in anger. What would be the point of leaving a message? Usnavi won't listen to it anyways. If he's not available now, then Sonny will call until he is.

 

He calls and calls and gets no answer and he's starting to feel impatient when the old saying fills his mind, unprompted. Patience and faith. He closes his eyes to gather his thoughts − not that it'd matter in full darkness. Alright. There's more than Usnavi in the world. He pulls up his phone again and selects Abuela Claudia. No answer. _Idiot_ , he thinks. _Of course she wouldn't answer, if there's a blackout, her phone is out_. No better result from his own mother, but she's on her shift at the bar downtown tonight and he wasn't really expecting her to answer. And Pete not coming back…

 

 

Sonny takes a big breath. And another few. His heart is still racing and he hears shouts outside, but whether they're from despair, whether people are actually in danger, Sonny cannot say. He braces himself. There's only one option left. His hand shaking, he opens the bodega's door to check what is happening outside on the block.

 

 

 

He's barely stepped out that Pete comes running towards him again. Panting, he struggles to get the words out.

 

"They throwin' bottles in the street," he says, his hand hovering over Sonny's but not quite touching it. "People lootin' and shootin'…"

 

Sonny is scared. This bodega, it's everything they've ever had, and if people start stealing stuff from it… He has no idea what they're supposed to do. His heart is a loud painful thud in his chest and he knows that Pete is still talking but the words simply don't register. Only when he grabs Sonny's arm, he snaps out of it.

 

"Nah, man, I can't leave, we gotta guard the store!"

 

Pete disagrees, which stings inside, he points out the danger… He doesn't get it. He just doesn't. Sonny looks around the street but there's barely anything to be seen, utter darkness if it weren't for the stars. He wonders about Abuela Claudia, if Usnavi went to check on her. He hopes he did. She's his responsibility, always. As for Sonny, it was his shift tonight, so the bodega is his.

 

"I got a baseball bat on a rack in the back," Sonny remembers suddenly.

 

Sonny has never been the strongest. He hasn't even always been the smartest. He's probably not the best at anything, but that doesn't mean he won't try to be the bravest tonight. Pete opens his backpack, says something about Roman candles and leaves Sonny again, but not very far. On the other side of the street, he can still see his shadow, enough to give him the courage to defend the bodega against all danger.

 

The shop is still dark, and still scary, but maybe a little less now that he knows that Pete is protecting him outside. He feels his way around to the backroom. By reflex, he almost presses the button to turn the light on, before remembering the blackout. He has a vague memory of where he put the bat, hopes his hands will find the way if not his eyes. Outside he hears loud booms. Fireworks. Bat in his hand, he steps back out.

 

He's seen fireworks every year, many times a year, but they've never looked quite like tonight. They're not the biggest Sonny has seen, not by far, just a few Roman candles Pete had in his bag,  yet seeing them exploding in the heavens, they've never been as impressive. Large trails of bright dust across the sky and the sound of them completely deafening.

 

At a much too close distance he hears shouts of the thugs looting nearby shops. He doesn't want his bodega, Usnavi's bodega to be the next. Bat in his hand, he's ready to face whatever comes, but first he ought to shut the grate. He's always been a little short for it and usually Usnavi is the one who pulls on that string. His shortness has nothing to do with why it won't work now, however. The grate is broken.

 

"Fuck…"

 

There has got to be a way to pull, a certain angle… He tries and tries, and still the metal won't budge.

 

"Yo, Son', we gotta go."

 

"Nah, man," Sonny replies and he hates that his voice sounds so panicked. "Grate is stuck, I can't leave! Usnavi gonna be mad."

 

He hangs onto that grate with all his weight and how unhelpful is his chub right now… Suddenly there is an arm around his waist, the hot skin of Pete's hand right against him. He shivers.

 

"Sonny," he says more gently. "We gotta go, they're gonna hurt us… They're gonna hurt you."

 

Powerless, Sonny pulls one more time until his hands are raw and sore, but the grate is stuck for good. He can't give up, but he has to. He stops trying. The grate is stuck. The bodega is helpless. There are vandals ready to attack any time and there's nothing to do but give up.

 

 

Pete's arm around his waist, they find refuge in the backroom of the bodega where it might be unsafe, but it's a temporary refuge from the panic in the streets. Sonny is filled with the fear that something will happen to the shop, to him, to his family… His mind jumps straight to Usnavi again. He fishes his phone from his pocket. Twelve unanswered calls. He pulls up the list and finds that they're all in fact from his mother. He bites his lip.  
  


"What's wrong?" Pete asks and Sonny realizes that his hand is still rubbing soothing circles on his lower back, probably felt him tense up.

 

"Nothin', just… My mom called."

 

Just his mom. Well, he shouldn't phrase anything like that. He loves his mom more than anyone in the world and of course, she's worried about him. She is, and he feels cared for and loved even in dire situations. Usnavi, though…

 

"Well, answer."  
  


It _is_ that easy, Sonny knows. And truthfully, even from blocks away, his mom's voice is one of the things he longs to hear the most. He may not spend the most time with her, because she's at work all day long and even at night, and he knows he's a burden to her, but he loves so much and he hates to know she's worried about him. He has to call. Before he can do any such thing, his phone buzzes with a new message.

 

_where are you??? are you safe??? usnavi_

 

If this wasn't a stressful horrible mess of a situation, Sonny would feel the need to tease his cousin about still signing every text message, but there is a time and a place for taunting him. He presses the call button.

 

"Sonny?!" His cousin's anxious voice yells into his ear. "Sonny, are you okay?!"

 

"'M fine," Sonny says, absolutely not fine. "Usnavi, where are you?"

 

"At Abuela's," Usnavi replies, as if it was the only possible answer in the world. In a way, it is. "Sonny, you need to go home, there's a blackout."  
  


"Oh shit, really? I didn't notice," Sonny bites.  
  


Pete snorts, pulls Sonny closer, his arm tight around him, protective as well as reassuring. Sonny wants more of that, and also wants that to keep going after the blackout, but time and place, again, do not allow him to bask in it.

 

"Call Tía Jane," Usnavi says. "She'll pick you up, right? Or I can come, I mean, Abuela is alone and…"

 

"Stay with Abuela. I'll call Mamá," Sonny promises. "But Usnavi, the bodega, the grate is broken…"  
  


There's a hitch in Usnavi's breath, but then he sighs.  
  


"Well, if you're safe, then nothing else matters."

 

"A'ight then. Erm, good night?"

 

"Be careful!" Usnavi says just before Sonny hangs up.

 

There has been a new voicemail just in the time it took for him to talk to Usnavi. Sonny calls his mom.

 

"Hijo de mi vida, where the fuck are you?!"

 

"Mamá, I'm…"

 

"I been callin' you all night! I get home and you're not here and there's no lights!"

 

"There's a blackout, Mamá."

 

"Ya lo sé," she retorts, half-way between exasperated and fond. "Where are you?"

 

"At the bodega."

 

"Don't move."

 

She hangs up before he can even answer.

 

Five minutes is all it takes for her to show up at the bodega on her big old bike, almost jumping off it before it fully stops to pull Sonny into the most crushing hug.

 

"You frightened me, little man," she whispers into his neck.

 

"Mamá, the vandals, they gonna…"

 

"They gonna do nothing," she says.

 

She grabs him by the waist and drops him in front of her on the bike like she used to do when he was much littler, an arm around his waist, completely unsafe according to law yet it feels so right. She doesn't turn on the engine yet. Sonny turns around to look up at her.

 

"Yo, Pete," she calls out. "Ya comin'?"

 

Pete's eyes widen in surprise and he doesn't seem to know what to respond.

 

"Come on," she pats the seat behind her. "Let's go home."

 

 

The apartment is pitch dark when they arrive home. Sonny clicks the light switch several times before remembering that it is not going to turn on. In utter black, he throws down his hat and drops on the couch head first. His whole body feels sore and he can't wait to take off his binder, get into bed and sleep for ten days.

 

"Home sweet home," his mom says sarcastically, sitting on the edge of the couch next to him, scratching his hair.

 

"I'm so tired," Sonny whimpers.

 

Slowly, he turns around, facing his mom.

 

"D'you think Usnavi is gonna be mad about the bodega?"

 

"If he is, I'm getting the chancla and he's getting a whooping."

 

Sonny laughs, although there is nothing funny about the situation, stretches himself the whole length of his body. He yawns.

 

"Tired, baby?"

 

He wishes she wouldn't call him that in front of Pete, much more when he can't even see Pete's face to know how embarrassed he ought to be. He nods lazily but remembers his mom can't see him.

 

"Yeah," he breathes out.

 

Tentatively, she finds his forehead and presses a kiss onto it. She stands up and a few seconds later there's light shining from under her face.

 

"Boo!" She says and throws the flashlight to him.

 

The room is a lot less dark with the weak light between Sonny's hands. He watches Pete, still standing by the door, trying to be forgotten, it seems. No such luck.

 

"Well, mission accomplished, my son is home, I'm going to bed," his mom says, stretching her arm so high her belly shows under her plaid. "Pete, you taking the couch?"

 

Pete nods, awkward and stern. He's like that sometimes, Sonny has noticed, around people he doesn't know well. Sometimes, Sonny believes that only around him does Pete truly show who he is. Or maybe he's just himself with everyone and special with Sonny. He'll never know. His mom disappears in her small room.

 

"So, erm…"

 

Pete trails off, doesn't say anything. Suddenly, in his own mind, Sonny is brought back in Pete's arms earlier, when his breath was so close and they almost kissed. He wonders if that will ever be brought up again or if it died with their power. Even more, he wonders if Pete is also thinking about it. They're staring at each other for much longer than should be if he wasn't thinking about it.

 

"I gotta take that couch," Pete finally says.

 

"Shit, right," Sonny jumps to his feet.

 

He gives Pete a blanket draped over an armchair, lets him settle in before taking the flashlight with him in his room, keeps it pointed at the door because he can't stand to be in the dark, not after tonight at the bodega. He's staring at the ceiling and trying to push all those thoughts down without success when there's a knock at the door. On a stressful night such as this one, his blood turns cold if only for a second, before he tells himself there's only two people who could realistically enter this room.

 

"Yeah?"

 

The one he was fearing, Pete, pushes the door open and, gulping, comes to sit next to Sonny on his bed. Seconds of silence pass, a minute, maybe more, Pete staring at the floor, hands clenched on his lap.

 

"Did you… did you wanna…"

 

Sonny likes to think he's pretty good at words usually, but they're completely failing him tonight.

 

"I didn't wanna be alone," Pete whispers.

 

In the dark night, his voice is loud no matter how faint he speaks.

 

"You're not alone now," Sonny says.

 

"No," Pete replies. "I'm not."

 

With a shaking hand, he takes Sonny's. Sonny is afraid he might drop it, or faint, or do something stupid, but he looks up and finds Pete's face so very, very close and this time, there's no new blackout, no nothing to interrupt. And that kiss was well worth the wait of the night.

 


End file.
